


Marcus' Captivity

by someawkwardwhitebech



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Attempted Kidnapping, Blood and Torture, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Language, M/M, Mild Language, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 20:32:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17474510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someawkwardwhitebech/pseuds/someawkwardwhitebech
Summary: Marcus gets kidnapped; Cliche, right?But here's the kicker; He was caught during a mission of a tech deal in the alleys of BDSMania.He's in for quite a surprise.





	1. Chapter 1

The sky was a darkened, calming blue, sparkled with soft white stars and faded grey clouds.

He was at peace until the Dedsec channel was rushing words at him.

 **Wrench:** M, you gotta get outta there. There's about six heading your way.

Marcus scrambled to his feet, planting his hands on the corroded grey concrete to push himself up.

His phone blasted some fine ass tunes into his ears, fading every time a rushed voice came over the Dedsec Channel.

He slipped the earbuds from their desolate locations, trying to focus on the scuffing of quieted steps.

They knew he was here.

He huffed and gripped his rope-ball weapon at his hip, glancing at both opening mouths of the alleyway, "Which side?

 **Sitara:** Wrench is on his way to you, there are three cars on your left and two groups coordinated to your right. Think you can climb up?

"What about the deal? Was it a trap?"

He gently pulled out his phone and reached up to grab at the AC's metallic roofing.

He pulled himself up when the comms cut out and pulled into static in his ear.

A low whistle raised like an alarm, causing him to pull the stupid bug from his ear and toss it out of haste.

"Fuck," he muttered, he was alone now.

Within minutes, flashlight beams traced his figure against the side of the wall and roofing.

Marcus felt his breath leave him when a taser shot from one of their guns, eliciting a long, drawn-out scream from his throat.

He fell back, probably concussing himself by smashing his head on the ground.

His body tensed and shook, trembling with each raised voltage.

A familiar face shot from above his with a smirk, "Marcus of Dedsec. Didn't think I'd catch you near a BDSM store..."

His body convulsed involuntarily as another struck him, pulling a shrilling scream to tear from his throat in a ragged breath.

The sides of his vision blacked out, pulling fuzzy views into his head as he tried to keep conscious.

A third slapped him hard, rushing the black vision across his mind, blanking his entire thought with a final scream of agonizing pain.

* * *

The newest Dedsec member gently opened his eyes, slow and careful of the bright lamp near him.

He shifted to roll onto his side, the clinking of cuffs chained to his wrists alarming him and awakening him further.

He shot up, choking on his saliva as he noted the room and his surroundings.

His body trembled involuntarily and he felt 50 degrees colder than before.

A plain, oversized shirt hung around his body, legs and arms exposed to the chilling air that blew in from three separate vents.

That and his boxers were the only things covering him.

His phone beeped on the table next to the bed.

A small message popped up as a reminder, ' **Wrench** _left a voicemail **3h ago**_ '

"Fuck, Fuck," he tugged at the cuffs on his wrist, "Fuck!"

A familiar jolt of electricity traveled around his neck, and his body once more convulsed and pulled him back onto his spine against the uncomfortable cot.

He clenched his teeth, glaring at the ceiling as it ripped through his veins.

When it finally stopped, a low grunt fell from his lips.

He panted out, the air dropping ten more degrees and leaving goosebumps on his skin.

"Fuck you!'

Another shock reverberated through his neck, eliciting a long scream from his lips again.

"Stop! Stop! Stop," he breathlessly screamed with a grunt, body shaking unbearably at the high voltage.

His hands reached around his neck, finding the shock collar there, before tugging at the spiked edges with a whimper.

A beeping noise started in the corner of the room, his mind finally alerting him of its presence, a red dot clicking on and off to show it's status of recording.

He glared at it and grunted out another, "Fuck you!"

The collar vibrated on his neck, his body flinching and mouth shooting open in a ragged scream.

His gaze slipped from the camera lens and he cried out again.

His body wouldn't stop shaking and trembling against the cot, the shock finally stopping for more than a minute.

An alienated, radio-covered voice peaked from the ceiling.

"I'll raise the voltage if you keep misbehaving."

Marcus huffed and panted, the chilling air sinking into his skin as he shook and shivered.

"Now, where is your headquarters?"

The man glared harder at the ceiling, "Fuck! You!"

The shock had sent him into a whimpering, pleading mess all of a sudden.

His mind blanked from after the collar went off to when his brain finally registered what he was saying again.

"Stop, stop, please, fuck, stop," Marcus' body kept trembling and shaking, his voice small and full of desperation.

Small claws formed up from the cot's uncomfortable metal, curling their tiny hands around his biceps, quads, wrists, and ankles.

He screamed even louder as the voltage tore into him, nearly burning his wrists and ankles as it increased.

Tears fled from his eyes in seconds, brain halting for a minor minute before he finally tuned in to his sobbing and uncontrollable pleads.

He couldn't control his mouth or how hard he was shaking and trembling like a leaf in the wind.

He saw himself on the TV in the corner of the room, right above the camera.

He whimpered and clenched his teeth tight as the next shock relentless throbbed in his veins and crawled under his skin, tearing a scream from his clenched throat as he thrashed to get away from the focal points.

The claw-like metal hands did not release him, strapping onto him tighter than the collar itself as they electrified him.

He let another scream tear from his throat, arching and trembling against the bed as he tried thrashing and flailing to get the damned things off of him.

"Fuck you! Fuck! You!"

 


	2. knives, Shocking Right?

His voice was ragged, rough, and downright wrecked from his screaming and pleading and sobbing.

He hadn't had a lick of sleep in all his six hours stuck here, or at least he assumed it was six since that same reminder on his phone went from 3 to 6.

Speaking of his phone...

The collar had been taken off in between him passing out and his reawakening.

However, those wrist cuffs stayed in their places.

He could feel the claws holding off from his skin but they were there, he could see them and their cold metal glares from the light sources surrounding this room.

As he glanced around, Marcus noted a couple of realizations he didn't think about earlier.

This looked like a mental asylum combined with a hospital topped off with an FBI interrogation room.

He was fucked, wasn't he?

There was no saving by the crew in this shit hole.

"Where..."

Marcus broke into a coughing fit and swore as the lights dimmed in his room.

He must have alerted them that he was conscious. 

Shit.

The door in the furthest corner of the room, near the TV, and, still recording, camera, opened and clicked shut, locked no doubt.

The red dot of the camera blinked at him, the lens zeroing in on him.

Was it possible for his team to have found his location with his phone GPS and hack into their system?

A hand waved in front of his face and he jolted back, "Fuck you want?"

The man snorted and took a seat, "Chill out, princess. You were pretty loud last night."

He flinched, glancing at his wrists as the claw-like mechanisms clicked onto the cuffs.

"What the fuck!? No, stop! Wait!"

The man held his hand up for the camera to see, clicking a button on a remote that was attached to his own wrist.

The voltage flickered through Marcus like a flame along gasoline.

He screamed like last time, but more hoarse and rough, a few tears of reminder of 'last night' fastening itself into his presence.

The volts were harsher, more crisp and sudden, more damaging than before.

His wrists were on fire and he gasped at the burning sensation across his arms.

He let out a shrilling scream against as they dug mini daggers into his wrists, the technology clipping into his skin like ant bites.

The man stood with a maniacal laugh, "They work after all, excellent!"

He pushed the chair towards the foot of the bed and moved to kneel next to Marcus, "Your friends are watching us," before glancing to the camera, "Let's give them a show."

He pressed the button again, clicking the volts up higher on the side of the remote.

Marcus' body convulsed against the metal bed's surface again, arms and biceps tensing and bulging as he let sobbing screams squeeze from his hoarse, scratched throat.

The warm wet tears slipped from his eyes and he hiccuped from the agonizing burns from the dagger cuts, each mini blade being heated with the explosive bolts.

"St-Stop," he sobbed out, trying to pull his arms away only to drag the daggers across his skin and create cutting slashes along the dark skin.

The man pushed the black off button, below the red one.

"Talk, Marcus. Tell me," the man started with a smirk, "Why were you in front of the BDSMania's prime seller?"

Marcus glared at the man, body twitching and trembling as he huffed and panted.

The man in the white lab coat stepped further from the bed and out of the camera's view, grabbing Marcus' stuff and throwing it into the chair.

"A deal, hmm? You bring random, advanced sex toys with electronic modifications and sell it? For what?"

Marcus sputtered, thinking of a quick lie or something.

"Oh? You prefer the bolts over the truth, yes? I'm an impatient man, Marcus, don't keep me waiting."

"It's not for a deal," Marcus choked out as the man's thumb brushed closer to the red button, in open view of course.

The man narrowed his eyes at the male before leaning closer, clicking open the case to reveal each and every toy Wrench had created for the deal.

Marcus glanced to the case and huffed, "That's actually- It's all for- I um," the male paused and his face flushed from his awkward thought.

The man cocked a brow at him, "Hmm?"

Marcus huffed and avoided the camera lens and this man's stupid goggles, "Actually, they're made for me. My- uh, my best friend made them," he muttered the rest, "specifically for me and my uh... tastes."

The button clicked and Marcus sputtered again, body convulsing and trembling again.

"So you're gay? You're a _faggot_ , Marcus? Do entertain me then."

Marcus twitched with anger and growled out, "Shut the fuck up! Fuck you!"

The voltage increased and Marcus sobbed at the increasing burning electricity running through his veins and nerves.

"I didn't take you for a masochist. Masochistic Marcus has a ring to it, how intriguing."

"What are you-"

"These toys are made for masochistic _faggots_ to enjoy. They're specifically for guys, I recognize a few of these from the _faggots_ that enter that stupid store you were near. Were you there for extra shit for your best friend to 'advance' into your 'tastes', Marcus?"

Marcus choked out a laugh through his crying when the off button was pushed, "You sound like an angry closeted asshole!"

The button clicked on again and shut him up fast, a whimper leaping from his chest as he grunted and groaned about the pain.

Though, the man turned it to low, the dull aching and burning fleeting through his arms still.

"I want to use some of these on you. Just to humiliate you in front of your," the man paused, glancing to the camera and grinning wide and crazily, "I know the perfect torture to make you start talking, Marcus."

The man flinched and moved to sit up, "Got to hell, man! I'm not telling you shit!"

"Glad you knew I was referring to you lying about the deal. Now tell me, Marcus, think your friends can save you in time?"

Marcus flinched when the man pulled a knife, sharp but short, from the case.

He held it up with a smirk, "Most simple thing in here. I guess I'll show your friend the results of his creations, yes?"

M felt his breath speed up and he tried to pull from the cuffs as the man leaned over his oversized white button up.

The first few buttons were undone but the man's patience wore thing and he slashed through it all, narrowly missing the boxers Marcus was wearing.

The camera beeped and the lens pulled back from the scene, almost as if to let him know that his team were either giving him less humiliation or were on their way to save him now.

He was hoping it would be the latter.


End file.
